


Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High?

by usandthemoon



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Arguing, Break Up, Drunken Confessions, Harry Styles Loves Louis Tomlinson, Heartbroken Louis Tomlinson, M/M, One Shot, Past Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:33:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27943070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usandthemoon/pseuds/usandthemoon
Summary: Louis' phone won't stop buzzing with texts from the boy he hasn't spoken to in nearly a year. It happens too often and it's been driving him crazy.Mainly because Harry only ever calls Louis when he's high.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High?

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the arctic monkeys' song, obviously. i keep seeing tiktoks with this au idea and i needed to write a one shot about it before my brain exploded lolol. head's up, it's proper sad <3

It's the middle of the night—almost three in the morning—and Louis has had _enough_.

His phone hasn't stopped going off for hours. He has muted it, switched it off, put on the telly and grabbed a few beers, downed one or two of them to block it out; the thought is scratching at his foggy brain relentlessly: _why's he only call me when he's high_?

It wasn't unexpected, they'd been drifting for a while and Louis knew it would only be a matter of time before he and Harry split apart completely.

Predictably, Harry was never not busy. He was always out and about, meeting new faces and discovering another part of the city. It wasn't that Louis was a bore, he was just so very tired of it all.

These past few years have been unforgiving to him, with the people he's lost and the battles he's fought just for his own career, it's taken a gigantic toll on his heart; a heart that'd become so hefty, he just couldn't keep dealing with it for much longer.

In time, Harry soon picked up on that too. He started to notice Louis wasn't as fiery as he once was, even if that part of his soul still tried to come out whenever they'd have a laugh some days, though it was still useless. Louis couldn't help but change during the circumstances and unfortunately, Harry never understood that. The boy is so wildly popular and _always_ on the scene, he's never had any choice but to travel along with the whirlwind that was fame. He's the perfect candidate for the spotlight.

Louis, however, he just wanted some time.

So after he and Harry officially broke it off, Louis moved to London—he figured going back to Doncaster for a while was the next stop but now he could stay in London and keep in touch with his team—things were still running for his career, his songs were still climbing the charts and Louis wasn't in any state to take a break from the industry. It's strange how things worked out, with all of the time he's had off it's been relaxing, it really was needed. Harry was a bit different with handling their breakup.

The two of them met at an award show, a small one, albeit it was impressive to attend. (You required a high status and presence, somehow Louis qualified for both even though he was only twenty and had one shitty EP out.)

They found one another at the buffet, anxiously grabbing too many small desserts from the selection put out for guests. Harry was a lot younger then, his curls were curlier and his cheeks were chubbier. Even at seventeen he was still taller than Louis but nowhere near as confident, which made him appear so bloody cute.

They were both relatively new in the music scene, in all honestly, yet somehow they'd managed to become some of the hottest singers in the media today.

After hiding away in the corner of this unsettlingly busy afterparty, Louis and Harry spent their time drinking countless shandys and scoffing endless treats. They had clicked instantly and Louis knew it wasn't a mere coincidence. He believes in fate, alright. They were supposed to run into each other that night.

Dating was difficult after that, when neither of them were in suitable a position to flaunt their sexuality. Both of their teams suggested it would be preferred to keep their relationship in the shadows—their fan bases are primarily female and they were told exposing their feelings would "probably be the blatant path to pulling the plug on their careers altogether."

Louis' always hated being under a contract.

And so, they bought a semi-decent complex in LA and managed to get cosy; as cosy as one can be when you're constantly travelling and merging with a sea of greedy producers who only seem to care about their own profit. It's a vicious industry, music. You don't tend to run into many kind hearts.

Soon enough, Louis got tired of pretending he was a certain type of 'pop star' and when things with his family became complicated he just couldn't hold back much longer.

He and Harry fought a lot.

Louis explained he didn't need to 'grieve' but that he just needed something real. It was obvious, he was sick of living a life that wasn't what he'd dreamed of.

Ever since he was a child, Louis vowed if his career happened to take off he'd do it properly and stay true to himself. Clearly, that wasn't the case. And Harry could never understand why Louis was always unhappy.

For most people, they'd agree that being upset by this is valid. Unfortunately, Harry isn't most people.

You see, Harry's a versatile guy. It's one of the reasons he and Louis were so compatible, Louis' a difficult bloke to keep up with. But when your boyfriend is constantly working and seeking out new methods to take his career to the next level, how can you be tame?

Louis started to miss his partner. He missed having Harry alone. All he really wanted was his boy, in his home, in his bed—their bed. Inevitably, Louis was tired of waking up alone. He told Harry it wasn't enough for him anymore and he left.

Here he is now, most of his mornings are spent scrolling through Twitter and seeing the many, many pictures of Harry attending the sexist parties in LA and wherever the fuck he ends up nowadays.

Even if it tore his heart apart, Louis still held onto his feelings for Harry. They weren't something you could just toss aside.

When Louis finally found the courage to stop checking his social media in dire need of seeing Harry's dimply smile, it all seemed untrustingly calm. He wasn't forced to think about how life could've been if he tried a little harder with the boy, if he put in more effort. No, now he could just focus on himself and what he needed to work on.

But then the calls started rolling in and so did the messages.

Drunk texts and regretful voicemails. Louis never responded to any of them. Call him weak, call him idiotic, call him pathetic or whatever you wish to call him, Louis never had the strength to delete Harry's fucking phone number.

It's probably his fault that he spends nights like these now alone, watching the tedious notifications fill up his phone screen and sighing.

The thing is, Louis actually has to be up tomorrow. He's got a meeting with his manager, who has set him up for a collaboration with another chart-climbing superstar. It doesn't sound all that appealing, but Louis cant deny Niall Horan's voice wouldn't accommodate his own in the best way. Besides it's been almost a year now, he's missed recording music.

Overall, Louis is ready to get back into the industry, _his way_. This is some sort of second chance for him.

This game plan however does not involve being called every bleeding hour of the night.

Louis huffs and stands to his feet, brushing off the crumbs that had gathered on his t-shirt and pacing over to his phone. He angrily slides it off the table and opens up the notifications still building up on his home screen.

It stings his hand. The bright screen displays the messages as they continue to come through. Louis did have the decency to remove Harry's profile picture though, so that must account for something. Ten points to Gryffindor, he supposes.

His phone suddenly buzzes and Louis stupidly flinches.

 ** _Louisss_** , it reads.

If he rolls his eyes any harder they'd be permanently stuck. What a fucking waste of breath, this boy is.

**_Pick up baby!!_ **

**_I miss your pretty face_ **

**_Let's hang out._ **

Jesus Christ. Harry is still going. After months, he's still asking to meet up.

**_I'll take you some place nice_ **

**_Treat you like a proper lady. All wined and dined like you deserve_ **

His blood boils at the tone. Louis can imagine Harry's hazy smirk and cloudy green eyes as he types in every single one of these embarrassing messages, long fingers smothering the keyboard impatiently.

**_Answer me_ **

It's nearly been a _year_. Louis grits his teeth and sits down on his sofa. He kicks his feet up onto the coffee table and leans back. The screen blinks in the dismal lighting of his living room and Louis feels sick. Whether it be the booze or even Harry, Louis feels sick to his stomach.

Now it's three in the morning, bang on. The screen reads _3:00 AM_ and it's just aggravating. Louis sucks in an agitated breath and begins typing without further thought.

**Why'd you only call me when you're high?**

Not even ten seconds can trickle by.

**_Hi_ **

**Why'd you only call me when you're high?**

Then as if matters couldn't get any worse, the screen begins to flicker and Harry's name is displayed in bold letters.

The answer button burns his retinas and Louis grimaces, shifting in his place. It's his only chance now, he'll never have the heart any other day. He needs to tell Harry to leave him alone once and for all.

"Hello?" he breathes the second his phone meets his ear. He reaches for a half-empty beer bottle and taking a large gulp.

"Lou," Louis hears that deep rumble through the speaker. And shit, it makes him feel faint.

"What the fuck do you want?" he hisses.

"Miss you," Harry slurs.

There are heavy footsteps echoing in the background and Louis can hear high pitched cackles around him. Harry's drunk, he's high and he needs to stop ringing Louis.

"Leave me alone."

"No," Harry immediately replies. "No! I mean, I don't want to. I-I can't."

"I don't care. I'm blocking you," Louis grunts, pulling away and freezing when he hears Harry's voice shoot up through the line.

"Stop! Don't go, baby," Harry draws out. "Don't make me wait anymore."

"Wait?" Louis frowns.

"You haven't spoken to me in months. _Months_ , Louis."

"I know," he says flatly. "That was the point."

"Louuu."

"Go home."

"Louissss. I'm in London, I know you're here tooo."

Louis' frail heart halts.

"I'm near your place."

And what the fuck?

Bewildered, Louis blinks and clutches the neck of his bottle with a tighter grip. "What do you mean?"

"Spoke to your manager, he texts me sometimes," Harry mumbles lazily. He's so fucking high and Louis feels like he can't breathe. "He sent me your address."

"You're coming here now?" Louis asks, standing up.

"Round the corner. Actually."

"Harry."

"Louis."

" _Harry_ ," his voice blips.

"Louis William Tomlinson."

"Don't," Louis voices, he ignores the swelling of his chest, the warm sensation that's scratching at his insides.

"Please don't."

The audio muffles and cuts out abruptly, leaving Louis quite literally speechless, phone burning and scolding the skin of his palm; he's fucked.

The door pounds with uneven beats, a rhythm so out of sync it's almost pitiful. And it's absolutely unfortunate to hear. Rain can be heard pattering across the windows of Louis' apartment, collecting in small puddles on his window sills. The rooms of his flat are dark and only grungy lighting fills his sight, Louis used the television's glow to pad through his hallway towards the front door. He squints as the streetlights glare through the foggy glass and he reaches out for the handle.

A tall figure lingers behind the door. Damp curls sticking to its face, a dark coat clinging to its frame. The pounding picks up again as it knocks a large fist against the glass. Louis clenches his jaw, sucks in a sharp breath and twists.

It shouldn't be fair. Harry's completely drunk, high, gone, out of his mind. Why does he look so painfully pretty?

"Hey," Harry quips with a slanted grin.

Louis stands with his fists tight by his sides, his teeth grinding and his eyes fiery.

"Can I come inside?"

Louis scoffs.

"It's raining though," Harry pouts. He actually fucking pouts. This six foot man with a clean cut jaw and those god-like eyes locked directly onto Louis is pouting.

The world scoffs too.

"Hand me your phone," Louis says blankly.

"What? Why?"

Louis holds his hand out and keeps his brows furrowed strictly. Inquisitively, Harry's lips purse and he pulls out his phone from the pocket of his trench coat with apprehension. Eventually, the phone is placed in Louis' small palm. As their hands make contact neither of them mention how it makes them both shudder.

"What are you doing?" Harry peers over at the screen. Louis unlocks the phone with ease, he figured the passcode would still be his birthday for some reason. Lucky guess.

"I'm deleting my number," he mumbles. And then the device is gone and Harry snags it away.

"No way," he slides it into his back pocket and an impressed crease develops on his forehead. Louis glares angrily. "What? I know it off by heart anyway."

"Okay."

"So I'd just...type in your number again?"

"Okay. I'll block you then."

Harry huffs. "Then I'll get a new phone."

Intolerable. Louis reaches for the door handle but Harry takes a large step forward, placing a large palm on the surface next to him. He pushes it back and steps inside, meaning Louis wordlessly walks backwards in fear of being too close to his ex.

Harry only sways mildly as he steps inside. He shuts the front door, shakes his curls free of fresh rain, and turns the light switch on nearby. Louis squints at the sudden brightness and quickly scolds Harry as their eyes meet once more. "Get out of my house."

"I had to come here."

"I can't do this right now," Louis clutches his hair and pulls frustratingly. "I've got to be up in the morning. I need an early night."

"It's three AM."

"You're starting to bore me now. And you kept me up," Louis says. Fine, he's partially fabricating the truth.

"I've missed your face," Harry tells him, pacing down the space between them. Louis holds his breath and ducks into the living room swiftly. Harry follows.

"You need to leave. Go find your friends," Louis grunts. He starts picking up empty beer bottles and trash sprawled across the floor. God this does not look good. He's supposed to be better off without Harry, not ten times worse.

"They've gone back to the hotel." Harry hovers nearby, eyes greedily scanning the room nosily.

"So why don't you go back to the hotel?" He shoves past Harry and paces into the kitchen, aggressively dropping the rubbish into his trash can and sighing.

"Because I want to stay here." Harry's standing directly in front of him when Louis turns around and flinches. "How've you been?"

"Oh, fuck off," Louis laughs humourlessly.

"I'm serious, Lou," the younger boy moves closer, swaying lightly on his feet.

"Don't call me that," Louis grits, he brings his hands up in the air to create space.

"I heard you’re collabing with Horan. 'S all over the internet."

"Okay."

"I'm sorry," Harry tugs his curls. "I know you hate me. Fuck, I wasn't thinking when I came here. I never _think_."

"Why won't you leave me alone?" Louis whispers tenderly.

His heart hurts.

"Do you want me to answer that honestly?" Even in the darkness, Harry's eyes are to bright to look into.

"No."

"I can't let go of you."

"You already did."

In response, Harry merely breaks eye contact and stares at the floor with guilt. It is so fucked up. Unwillingly, Louis walks around the boy and trudges down the hallway. He reaches for the door handle and pauses, hesitant. Footsteps approach.

"You weren't happy," Harry affirms. Louis doesn't look at him, instead he studies the door frame attentively, his back stiff and tense. "You weren't happy because of me."

 _No_ , Louis wants to say. _You were the only thing that made me happy but you wanted more. More. I couldn't give you more._

"I wasn't good for you."

_I just needed you to wake up in the morning and see you there. Just once. You were never there. You were always gone._

"And I'm still not good for you."

_Please go away._

"Lou," Harry's voice breaks into a million shards of glass that strike Louis' back with immense force, breaking the surface of his skin bitterly. "The hardest thing I've ever done is let you walk away when I was still madly in love with you." 

_You hurt me so much._

"I know."

Fuck. He's been saying all of this out loud the entire time, hasn't he?

"Baby," Harry lets out a defeatist sob. "You deserved so much better than me. I'm so sorry."

Gulping, Louis finally finds courage to turn on his heel and over at the forlorn boy. "Maybe I did deserve someone else, but I always wanted you."

His lower lip quivers and Harry ducks his head to the ground shamefully.

"I broke my heart loving you. I was never a priority, I was always your pastime, H. I wanted to tell you how much I missed you, but it wouldn't have made a difference."

Amber headlights fill the charcoal light from outside and, for a split second, Louis can see the glossy layer coating Harry's _greengreen **green**_ eyes. Louis swallows the frail air climbing up his airways, scratching his throat, and wipes frustratedly at the wetness gathering on his cheeks.

"It hurts so much having you in my life. And it hurts not having you, too. I can't win."

"But..." Harry's voice is so quiet, so sheepish, it's raw and it's vulnerable and Louis can feel his limbs tighten. "You let go of me so easily."

That pit inside of Louis, the sickening, heavy pit brewing, is churning.

"You just left." It’s swirling. 

"And you think I wanted to?"

Harry frowns, bewildered, whispering a quiet, "what?"

"You think I wanted to leave you?" Louis lets go of the door handle and storms over to Harry, snapping his head up and glaring into those fucking cursed jade eyes.

"Y-yes?"

"Asshole," Louis shoves his chest.

"What?" Harry groans when his back meet the jagged wall behind him harshly.

"You didn't give me a choice!" Louis voice booms, shaking the entire flat. "Harry, we weren't in a relationship. The day you started disappearing, when you'd vanish for weeks sometimes, that was when our love was lost. When you'd be on the front cover of the next tabloid, arms around some random girl. Or bloke."

"Lou..."

"Shut the fuck up. You fucking _prick_."

Harry turns his head to the side, eyes scrunched painfully shut. Shame.

"I would wait for you. I'd sit in our home with our dinner made and have the telly playing your favourite show. I'd sit there and wait for you to walk through our fucking door. But you were always _out_. You were always looking for _more_."

All of the fury, it just keeps coming.

"I said it was fine. When you'd ask, I'd tell you it was fine," Louis sniffs and clenches his fist around the material of Harry's rain-soaked t-shirt, twisting and tugging. "But I never said it didn't hurt."

Thunder strikes outside and Louis' in disbelief.

He quickly pulls back, releases his hold on Harry and heads back over to the front door. It snaps open with a cruel bang and Louis waits. He waits until Harry pushes himself off the wall and slowly drags his feet over. He waits until Harry looks at him, but he doesn't look back. He waits as Harry is greeted by heavy rainfall and emerges into the darkness.

He waits until Harry stops walking and freezes at the end of his driveway in the midst of the storm.

"You're so selfish," Louis says, voice lost in the breeze. Harry's practically shaking and yet, somehow, he doesn't unhook his gaze from Louis.

"Even after you break my heart, you... You just keep coming back. You can never let me heal."

Water lashes down and the concrete winces.

"I was prepared for you to leave me, Louis," Harry finally speaks, crestfallen. "I knew one day you would. I don't blame you for doing it. But I wasn't prepared for it to hurt this much."

Louis pulls on the door, leaning his numb body against it. Harry stands still, his frame slumped and defeated. They glare at each other helplessly and it's suffocating.

"I wish you well, Harry. I'll always care for you. You were my favourite person. But you have to let me go."

"I—"

"No. I'm not _asking_."

"I'll delete your number," Harry says after less than a minute slips by.

Louis’ lips quirk unhappily. "Lay off the drinking and smoking, too. Okay?"

"Okay."

"I wish you well,” he repeats.

"I love you, Lou. Always will."

"Yeah. I... Bye, Harry." He closes the door and whimpers when silence engulfs him.

The night grows violent and Louis simply breaks into the stars. His phone is ghostly the next day; it's silent for weeks.

His nightmares seem to stop after a few months, though Louis will never forget them. He'll never forget Harry's face the moment he closed that front door.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos r appreciated :)


End file.
